


Eight Something

by DoreyG



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Awkward Conversations, Coitus Interruptus, Community: comment_fic, Damian is a little brat, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Somehow," he sighs, averting his eyes for fear of otherwise losing Alfred's very nice sandwiches from his stomach immediately, "I feel as if I should've expected this."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Something

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on Comment_Fic that asked for an AU where Hal was Damian's Algebra teacher.

"Somehow," he sighs, averting his eyes for fear of otherwise losing Alfred's very nice sandwiches from his stomach immediately, "I feel as if I should've expected this."

"Holy fucking shit," Mr Jordan - Hal Jordan, former pilot and one of the most obnoxious teachers that he has ever been forced to deal with - says intelligently, and there's the sound of frantic scrambling as if the two are trying to cover themselves up, "I thought you _locked_ the door."

"Yes, Jordan, swear in front of the minor," Father mutters in disapproving tones, and then _sighs_ as if Jordan has made one of his more annoying faces, "I was a little distracted at the time, as you may recall. I can hardly be expected to remember when you were doing... _That_."

He scowls, at both the minor comment and the disgusting thought of whatever 'that' was, but only looks back up when father gives an obliging cough. A curtain has been ripped from one of the windows, and they're both swaddled in it - it looks, not to put too fine a point on it, _ridiculous_ , "I won't be in here long, I just need my laptop and then I'll leave you to defile the desk."

"Defile the-" Jordan starts in a tone that suggests he's about to start yelling about dictionaries yet again, and then stops. The false smile forced across his face is truly something joyous to behold, "I mean, uh, that's fine. Take as much time as you need... Sport."

"Do _not_ call me that," he snaps, as father hides a snort into his curtain. The laptop, thankfully, is far from the desk - he pulls it carefully off one of the loungers, and tucks it carefully under his arm, "by the way, the problems that you set yesterday-"

"Damian-" father starts warningly, as Jordan blithely opens his mouth.

"-Took me less than a minute to solve. You _really_ must stop exposing your idiocy in such a public way," he finishes ruthlessly, because they _deserve_ at least that after such mental scarring, and ambles for the door, "I'll get out now. Try to keep from staining _too_ many pieces of priceless furniture."

"You little-!"

"We'll keep that in mind," father says firmly, and practically shoves him out of the door before Jordan can do anything more than glare, "good _bye_."

"Your son is a brat," he hears Jordan complain, ever so hotly, as he strolls smirking into the hall.

"Odd," father huffs, just before he slams the door shut, "I would've thought that you two would get along wonderfully."


End file.
